What Hurts Inside
by johnegderptheadorkable
Summary: John is a junior in high school. He is constantly bullied by students and verbally abused by his dad. The way he deals with it is not what you would expect, and he unfortunately gets found out by a man by the name of Bro Strider, the new P.E teacher at his school. who takes it upon himself to help turn John's life around. (Homestuck belongs to Hussie, M for contact and language)


**What hurts Inside**

**A/N: Hey guys! My name is Kaeyden. I had another account by the name of kitsunelove4ever (or something like that). Some of you guys may know it, if you read this story, which is a re-write of A More Unconventional Method. I know those who were following me before were really looking forward to me updating on my stories, but I'm just not feeling the account anymore, to be honest. I know that sounds weird and all but when I made it; I wasn't even going to write anything for it. Anywho, I WILL (maybe, if I can find them. My hard drive had to get wiped because of viruses and I'm not sure I got all my stories back) re-upload those stories onto this account, even My Guardian! So, I hope you guys enjoy my new account!**

**Chapter 1**

High school's not all it's cracked up to be. At first glance, everything seems normal, you know? Everyone had their own groups, their own mannerisms, and their own rung on the social ladder. Like Feferi Peixes: head cheer leader and a member of half the clubs and committees at school. It wasn't like she was a rude or bitchy. She was just too perfect for the normal high school. Of course, there were those of much lower in status that seemed too out of the social niche for a normal high school.

Now, back to what and who this story is actually about: John Egbert, a junior in high school. On the outside, John /was/ just a normal high school kid. He was nerdy and had a decent amount of friends. He liked a lot of the things everyone else liked and hung out at the same hot spots. Why would anyone think he was out of the ordinary?

John let out an annoyed sigh as he adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder. He was at his locker, putting books away and pulling out folders and workbooks to take home for homework. School just started a month ago and things were already incredibly stressful.

He shut his locker and stuffed his supplies in his bag before heading towards the front door. Halfway there, someone tripped him and he fell forward, barely getting his arms out in front of him before hitting the ground. There was a chorus of snickers followed by someone kicking his backpack forcefully, causing its contents to spew across the hall floor. He heard the usual remarks like 'nerd' and some other rather hurtful sayings he heard on a daily basis.

The crowd dissipated rather quickly, and he silently went about picking up his papers. This had been happening since day one of high school. He didn't deal with it very well in the beginning, and it just got worse over the years.

"Hey, you alright there kid?"

John froze and looked up at the voice. There was a tall man standing there with spiked up blond hair and triangle anime shades. He was a bit taken aback by how attractive he was. And the guy didn't even look like he was trying!

"Umm… yeah…" John answered quietly. He tugged at his sleeves of his hoodie subconsciously and went back to picking up his papers.

John didn't know, but the man who stood there knew immediately what he was hiding beneath his sleeves, just with how he was acting towards a total stranger. That and the fact he was barely more than skin and bones and he could see a slight protrusion under his sleeves.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man kneel down and start helping him out. "You don't have to help. I can manage," John said. He hoped he wasn't sounding rude…

"Well, you're gonna have to learn how deal with a bit of help, kid," The man responded without skipping a beat.

John fell silent, just kind of staring at the guy. No one really helped him out other than his friends so it kind of came to a shock to him. He gathered the rest of his papers and stood up, clearing his throat as the other stood up with a handful of papers.

"Thanks," John said, reaching out and taking the papers.

"No problem. Hey, can you point me the way to the office? Got some papers to drop off."

"Oh, yeah of course. Just go down the hall, make a left, and it's the third door down on your left." He directed while putting the papers into his back pack.

The man nodded and started walking in that direction before stopping and turning to face John again. "Oh, thanks, kid. The name's Bro," the man held out a hand with a small grin.

John looked at the man's hand for a second before taking his hand. "I'm John."

The man, or Bro, pulled John closer as soon as they clasped hands and pushed his sleeve up to reveal a bandage wrapped from his wrist and up past his elbow.

John gasped in surprise and struggled to pull away once he realized what just happened. Bro released him almost immediately, looking at him with a straight, unreadable face. John stared back, his eyes wide with fear. He took a few steps back and then turned, running down the hall and out the building. The whole time, the man was watching him. Wondering what possibly drove him to do such a thing.

John raced home. He wanted to get as far away from school as possible. He got to the front door and fumbled with his key. It took a few minutes before he was able to get the door open and when he did, he collapsed to the floor, breathing ragged and quick.

Thankfully, his dad wasn't home. He would have nagged him and accused him of all sorts of things, like he always did. Just thinking of some of the things his dad said over the last few years stirred up the urge to do the one thing he hated to do, but couldn't stop.

He pushed himself up slowly, heading upstairs to his room. When he got there, he locked the door and dropped his stuff next to his desk. His desk was pushed into a corner, but there was a little space between the wall and the side of the desk. And there, in the floor boards, he kept a box. And in the box, there were razors lined up neatly.

He pulled the box out and opened it, biting his lip as pulled out a brand new blade. He let out a shaky breath. Where would he do it? He couldn't on his arms… He already did that two days ago. He looked down at his legs. That's where… He rolled up his pants and gazed at the ivory scars that crisscrossed in a checkerboard pattern on his thin thighs.

The metal felt cool against his skin, and the bite of the sharp end blocked out the thoughts that were tormenting him. Like his dad's accusations and the blond guy's actions earlier. What would happen if the blond told anyone at the office? Things would just get worse if that happened.

The cuts kept appearing. It was like clockwork to him now. So many on one leg and then the same amount on the other. There were 40 cuts each when he finally let his hand drop. Blood welled up and dried quickly over the cuts, but the pain was still coming in short waves. He gently rolled his pants back down and stood up, wrapping the razor up in a tissue and throwing it in the trash.

Afterwards, he just lay in bed, curling up and staring blankly at the wall until he fell asleep.

**A/N: Short chapter, I know. I usually try to make the pilot chapter 2k words, but I haven't written in so long that I'm a bit rusty. But the rest of the chapters will be around 1k. Yeah that's short, but that's usually all I'm able to handle with my patience. Any ways, I hope you guy's liked it! Please leave a review with story suggestions or just what you think of the story!**


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